pjbooks Chapter 111 [That's not right!]
Chapter 111 [That's not right!]
Chapter 111 [That's not right!]
"Mr. Liu, this is your guest!"
"She's so pretty, is she your girlfriend?"
"Boss Liu, this is really professional! Look at all that equipment—"
Liu Zhuohao led the way, and Song Yinxuan followed half a step behind him, her fingers unconsciously pinching a corner of his T-shirt.
Further on are a crow and a soy milk, both looking tense.
Several uniformed urban management officers set up a temporary barrier, clearing a narrow passage for them to barely pass through the crowd.
There was no uncontrolled pushing or frenzy in the crowd; this was not a celebrity concert or meet-and-greet.
People were mostly just curious and excited to watch the spectacle; the buzzing of conversations and shouts mingled with the unique fumes and aromas of food from the night market.
As more uniformed personnel appeared at the scene, including traffic police, the potential for chaos was effectively contained within a lively yet relatively orderly atmosphere.
It was just lively, like a pedestrian street before the Spring Festival.
Amidst the clamor of voices, Song Yinxuan's voice rang almost against Liu Zhuohao's ear, trembling slightly: "We—we're not going to trend on social media, are we?"
Because it's so close, it's very clear.
Liu Zhuohao turned his head slightly and glanced at her.
She tried hard to maintain her composure, even managing a hint of sweetness for the camera, but her tightly pursed lips and the slightly white knuckles of her fingers gripping his shirt showed how nervous she was.
Liu Zhuohao practically whispered in her ear to make sure his voice could penetrate the noise: "It's not that serious, don't worry. Since I invited you to be a guest, I'll definitely take full responsibility for your safety."
This isn't meant to be comforting; this is just the beginning.
Getting on the trending topics list in 14 isn't something that comes easily.
Excluding the previous instances where the platform purchased trending topics for itself to drive traffic from Weibo to Bilibili.
Usually, trending topics are dominated by celebrities.
Before short videos became popular, and before everyone could become a blogger and record their lives, this current buzz is only temporary.
It's possible that if it's recorded as a video and uploaded to Bilibili later, it could create a stir.
But that's just how it is.
Liu Zhuohao's gaze lingered curiously as people from the surrounding area looked this way, occasionally glancing at the people he was calling out to. Most of them didn't, as they would later, habitually take out their phones to record or film.
Most people at the scene just craned their necks to look and shouted at the top of their lungs.
Only a few tourists or students with digital cameras or smartphones will attempt to record.
The phenomenon of almost everyone holding up their phones to livestream has not yet become instinctive.
"Excuse me, everyone, please make way and be careful!"
"Everyone, watch where you're stepping! If there are elderly people or children nearby, lend a hand!"
"She's not my girlfriend, she's a food blogger I invited to help me make delicious food!"
As Liu Zhuohao pushed his way through the crowd, he raised his voice, freely switching between his hometown dialect and Mandarin, loudly responding to questions thrown at him from all directions.
He had to speak up and work with other urban management officers and traffic police to maintain this communication.
As the person involved, he certainly couldn't just keep his head down and walk forward in silence.
With great difficulty, escorted by several uniformed personnel, the group finally broke through to the depths of the night market and stood in front of the street stall.
But this place no longer resembles a stall.
Inside the dining car, Huang Weixiong, Li Zekai, and others were preparing the kitchen utensils and ingredients they would use later, following a pre-rehearsed procedure with quick but slightly nervous hands and feet, their expressions revealing barely suppressed excitement.
Around the food truck, several high-powered LED fill lights have been set up, illuminating the stall and the reserved open space next to it as bright as day, with the lights focused entirely on the food truck in the center.
Reflectors, microphone poles, monitors, and several professional-looking cameras were surrounded by a photography team of about six or seven people, who were nervously making final adjustments and confirming their positions.
Every now and then, they would look around, as if they had never seen such a scene before.
Zhuang Zicong and Liu Honghao, like two sponges, stayed close to the photography team, their eyes wide open, observing how they set up cameras, adjusted parameters, and planned their movements.
This was something Liu Zhuohao had previously instructed them to do: take advantage of this filming opportunity to learn more about professional filming procedures.
As he got closer, he could clearly see that some of them visibly relaxed when their eyes fell on him.
In the noisy environment, a middle-aged man with a beard and a ponytail, who looked very artistic, squeezed through the photography team and called out, "Finally here, Teacher Liu."
He used the title commonly used by the media, rather than the "Boss Liu" that he usually used with his fans and neighbors.
"Boss, you've finally arrived."
Huang Weixiong and the others quickly walked over to join the group, their faces showing both excitement and exhaustion.
This time, unlike before, they opened for business first and then started filming when it was almost time.
"Today's filming caused them to completely stop their stall business and turn it into a tourist attraction."
"Why didn't you answer the phone?! I thought something had happened!" Before Liu Zhuohao could speak, Crow preemptively attacked, his voice filled with barely suppressed anger and lingering fear.
God knows how many terrifying scenarios he imagined—the filming being aborted, or even a stampede—while he was in the car, looking at the endless stream of people and the unanswered phone.
"————"
The middle-aged man was startled, quickly pulled out his phone from his pocket, and saw a series of missed calls. His face immediately filled with apology, and he shouted at the top of his lungs, "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! Teacher Liu, Teacher Crow, it's too noisy here, I can't hear you at all!"
He was speaking, or rather, shouting.
Their voices were all shouted out.
The noise from the surrounding area was unlike that of a vegetable market; it sounded more like the blasting music from a bar or nightclub, the combined sound waves drowning out the voices of those trying to speak in their normal tones.
In this situation, unless you hold the phone in your hand, you might not be able to hear the ringtone clearly no matter how long it rings if it's in your pocket.
Just then, a voice, unusually loud due to nervousness, interrupted: "Um—Teacher Cat, may I take a picture with you?"
Liu Zhuohao turned his head and saw Huang Weixiong, who usually had a loud voice, standing in front of Song Yinxuan with a flushed face, looking both reserved and incredibly expectant, clutching his phone tightly in his hand.
A clear look of surprise flashed across Song Yinxuan's face, and her round apple cheeks puffed up slightly in surprise, making her look even more adorable.
After a brief moment of confusion, she turned to Liu Zhuohao and her lips moved.
The sound was too soft and was completely drowned out; Liu Zhuohao couldn't hear it clearly.
She had to lean closer, her warm breath almost brushing against her earlobe: "Is it okay?"
Liu Zhuohao instinctively turned his head to the side, and a wisp of her hair's fresh fragrance brushed past his nose, mixed with a faint scent that might be from skincare products.
"Can what?" He didn't react for a moment.
"It's just a group photo." She leaned closer again, speaking succinctly.
Liu Zhuohao was stunned for a moment, and didn't quite follow her train of thought.
He leaned closer again, almost able to see the fine downy hairs on her earlobes and the base of her ears, which were slightly red from nervousness: "—If you'd like to take a picture together."
"But you don't think you need to ask me about this, do you?"
"Are you finding it difficult? I can help you refuse him. This kid doesn't even consider the occasion."
He was indeed somewhat confused.
Huang Weixiong wanted to take a photo with her, so she could decide for herself. Why did she need to ask for her opinion?
Is she feeling awkward and hoping I can help her out of this predicament?
"No, I don't mean any trouble." Song Yinxuan followed his example and leaned closer again, lowering her voice even further, sounding confused. "I just feel a little strange that you want to take a photo with me here."
怪？
Liu Zhuohao followed her gaze and looked around, and roughly understood.
"There's nothing strange about it."
He looked at the genuine confusion in Song Yinxuan's eyes and couldn't help but chuckle. "I see him every day in private, so he doesn't have any biases towards me. But you're different; this is your first time meeting."
"And it seems he also follows your dance videos regularly, so he's kind of a fan?"
"It's perfectly normal for him to ask you for a photo now. If you'd like to take a photo with him, then take one with him."
"
He gave a casual explanation.
Song Yinxuan raised her eyes and glanced at him quickly. The confusion in her round eyes seemed to be gently dispelled by those words.
She nodded, took a deep breath, turned around, and her face had switched back to the sweet smile she wore when facing the camera, with a hint of "business" in it, as she walked towards Huang Weixiong, who was holding his phone and looking expectant.
She obediently stood in front of the phone Huang Weixiong was holding up, tilted her head slightly, made a standard "V" sign, and the curve of her lips was just right.
For a content creator who is active at anime conventions all year round, taking photos is normal and there's nothing awkward about it.
Huang Weixiong looked at his phone screen, his face flushed with excitement, and thanked them repeatedly.
Song Yinxuan simply smiled and shook her head, but her gaze involuntarily drifted back to the tall figure who was communicating with the photography team and two editors.
From their first meeting that afternoon, she had vaguely sensed from either the crows' words or other people's reactions that Boss Liu was somewhat well-known locally.
Seeing the scene now, she finally understood what "having some fame" really meant.
There are so many people here, they definitely didn't come for me.
The faces of those crowding outside the cordon, craning their necks and shouting excitedly—students in school uniforms, white-collar workers passing by on their way home from get off work, and neighbors in slippers fanning themselves with palm-leaf fans—
She was very clear-headed; she didn't have the capacity or understanding to comprehend it.
So when Huang Weixiong went up to ask her, her first feeling was that something was strange.
It's like at Jacky Cheung's concert, when Kelly Chen was invited as a guest. Fans went up on stage, but instead of asking Jacky Cheung for a photo, they walked towards Kelly Chen.
Is that correct?
"Ready to film! Everyone in position!" Crow clapped his hands and began to give loud instructions.
The photography team quickly got to work, and Huang Weixiong and others also helped clear the area and maintain order.
Crow and Soy Milk didn't even forget their mission to the platform, taking the opportunity to shout to the crowd: "Everyone, please don't push forward! Be careful! Tonight's content will be uploaded to Bilibili later, you can download the app to watch it!"
"Registration might require answering questions, which is a bit of a hurdle, but there are guides online! If all else fails, you can just search for them on the web."
After all, it was an event organized by Bilibili (the website's official website), and they were mostly trying to attract onlookers to learn about the Bilibili platform.
However, this is not an easy task; the quiz system has prevented too many people from registering accounts.
In Liu Zhuohao's memory, the question-answering system was supposed to gradually reduce its difficulty starting in May of next year, from one hundred questions to fifty questions. After that, the content was secretly modified almost every year, with many more easy questions added.
The high registration threshold can exclude most people who don't have much understanding of ACG culture.
However, with such a high registration threshold, Bilibili cannot become mainstream, and its daily active users will only decrease as more and more people grow up and start working. How to attract new users is always a matter that any platform on the Internet needs to carefully consider.
However, as filming began, the order and atmosphere on set gradually became irrelevant to Liu Zhuohao.
He walked to the work area behind the food cart, put on a clean white chef's uniform, and casually rolled up the cuffs.
On the large cutting board in front of me, there lay a clean, glossy, whole Sanhuang chicken, plump and smooth, like a raw material waiting to be given meaning.
In front of the camera and in front of others, Liu Zhuohao carefully washed his hands before picking up the kitchen utensils.
"Click."
A clear and crisp sound was precisely recorded through the miniature microphone clipped to his collar.
Under the camera's focus, Liu Zhuohao appeared calm, yet his technique was highly skilled.
He held the chicken breast up, his hands steady and strong, pried open the chicken leg, found the joint, and with a light stroke of the knife, cut open the skin and flesh to reveal the white joint.
With a precise press of the blade, the chicken leg was severed, leaving a smooth cut with only the main bone remaining intact, without any excess bone fragments.
"Slide down along the joints, and try not to use too much force to chop."
Liu Zhuohao spoke softly, his voice recorded through a microphone clipped to his collar, "If you chop with brute force, the bones will break, and small bone fragments will easily get embedded in the flesh."
"If the person eating it is someone who is used to picking at things, it's fine. But if the person is someone who just wants to enjoy the food and doesn't like having hard things in their mouth, the experience will be less than ideal."
His speech was steady, but his hands moved with fluid grace, without any hesitation, from disassembling the chicken legs to the wings, then removing the breast, separating the entire chicken carcass—
Each step was clear and crisp, displaying a skill developed through repeated practice.
This chicken disassembly process was something he painstakingly learned by repeatedly disassembling and practicing online tutorials and cookbooks, with the help of several culinary students, including Huang Weixiong.
He didn't add any fancy personal insights; he simply meticulously reproduced the entire process.
With enough practice, it's not difficult to replicate a dish; after all, that's how Liu Zhuohao has done it for over a decade.